


The Report

by Aldinatch



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background Relationships, Bad Decisions, Explosions, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, Other, Punishment, Pyromania, Time Skips, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22736428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aldinatch/pseuds/Aldinatch
Summary: Hellsing is learning the difficulty of training a werewolf. You certainly don't make things easy for yourself though.
Relationships: Alucard (Hellsing) & Original Character(s), Integra Hellsing/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	The Report

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a one off from a Hellsing fic I've been messing with. It was more for fun then anything. Please enjoy. 
> 
> You are Renee Du'Lupone, former thief turned wolf. Who while trying to regain her humanity ends up employed by Hellsing over getting euthanized. You're code name is Riot btw and will be explained another time.

The Report.

I sit in the hard wooden chair anxious. Knees bouncing, fidgeting with my tail in my lap. I glance nervously around the table to the 4 others sitting before me. Their faces a mix of pensive anger and shock. Only one is grinning. Her stark blue eye is alight with silent laughter as she finishes the last page of my dubious report. 

Well, at least someone likes my work.

“Miss Du'lupone? We are happy to see you come back from your mission in Siberia unharmed. Your report is, ahem, interesting...?” Sir Penwood struggled to find words that were as non-offensive as possible. He really doesn't have the backbone to have a seat among the 12 Knights of the Round.

Lt. General Walsh slammed the file down before him causing the meek Penwood to yelp and cower next to him. “You blew up an entire coal mine to eliminate the target? You do realize that will burn FOREVER, don't you?” His hand moved to his weathered face, a pained look of pure frustration as he thought about the ramifications of the situation. The old veteran was going to die of stress if they couldn't train this new dog of Hellsing.

“Uh well, it uh was abandoned? So, like, there's no coal... left...? And there was a lot of, um, zombies too...” I tried to explain, knowing full well it didn't matter what my reasons were. My wolf ears flicked back as I readied myself for a tongue lashing. 

“That's inexcusable." The snap of the report hitting the table sounded the start of the verbal barage, "You were given all the tools to complete your mission quickly and efficiently. You were told multiple times that this was a stealth mission. As a former cat burglar I would have thought this to be child's play for you. This is absolutely unacceptable!” Scolded Sir Irons. He bore me down with a stern face. Hands folded neatly before him. He was as perfectly poised as his platinum blonde hair. To the left of the well dressed knight a low chuckle broke the tension, and upon realizing who it was the tension swept back in like a tsunami.

Sir Integra Hellsing laughed loudly, flipping through the pages of my report with visible amusement.  
“Renee, what was it you said as you drove the Fuel Tanker into the mines?” Her refined soft voice made the other 3 men stiffen with fear and respect. She looked to me to respond, her one eye held a sort of malice and excitement in it's blue depths. 

“I said-” straightening up in my seat, ears perking forward “I said 'Welcome to Jackass' and crashed the tanker into the mine, Sir.” Fuck it, I'm already in trouble, might as well own the flaming mess I made.

Her laughter filled the conference room once again. It echoed about the lavish space. Sir Irons looking confused leaned forwards to look at his other companions who sat at her other side. Sir Penwood's face had drained of color looking sickly and the elder Lieutenant shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Sir Hellsing took out a cigar, clipped it and oh so slowly lit it. We all waited with baited breath as she took a long drag. Finally, she opened her eye and called out to her faithful servant hidden in her shadow.

“Seras, start the recording.” “Yes Master.” answered the unseen guardian. 

A large panel in the wall slid down with a near silent whir. A computer monitor was revealed, the screen paused in a dark blur of movement. I could feel my heart stop with recognition.

“Renee. I know this was your first solo mission and you were gone for nearly two weeks tracking the target.” She pulled another breath from the cigar, blowing it out as she continued “You represent not only the Royal Crown and the Hellsing Organization but also ME.”  
She took another drag of her cigar and continued with a frigid tone, “Do you think you acted appropriately?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was getting worse. My tail was now firmly tucked under the chair.

“Seras, if you would.” she waved her hand and leaned back. The video started.

A blur of motion and muted sounds as the camera whipped around before it focused on my face. The dim morning sky was enough to light my form. I was disheveled in a ripped grey t-shirt, black and red paint spattered all over it and my arms. A red smear of paint, or perhaps blood, on my left cheek and my tail held high and wagging.  
I was grinning a wild fanged grin, my voice as excited as a kid in a toy store,  
“Hello! I'm Riot and this-” The camera turned to face a large, older model fuel truck. 

But that wasn't the most interesting thing about the old big rig, no, it was the huge phallic image sloppily painted in black running the length of the trucks' 30+ feet tank. “-IS JACKASS!!”

The giant penis with the uneven words 'SUCK MY COCK' in red below it was painted on both sides of the truck.

Back in the meeting I slowly started to sink down in my seat as I listened to the shocked gasps from across the table. Sir Irons was flabbergasted, and poor Penwood looked to have suffered a mental blue screen. And the old codger Walsh looked furious, head hung down, fists before him shaking with the effort to contain himself. Fucking hell.

Oh, but my glorious leader, she looked positively jubilant. Her smile matched my recorded face. 

The camera again shook as I climbed into the filthy cab, shoving a box of road flares aside. The metal behemoth rumbled to life and jerked forward as I fumbled with the rusty stick shift. A loud rock song in Russian blasted from the radio, my manic laughter could hardly be heard over the music as I pushed the metal beast to gain speed. 

The camera was again moved, sitting now on the dash looking out the dirty windscreen. The road was barren, snow had melted off it's surface but was still visible on the sides into the overgrown forest. The camera bounced with every minor imperfection in the blacktop, slid side to side with the winding turns as I drove into the valley. It wasn't long before a fence that blocked the road was ran through like it was tissue paper. Suddenly the camera was picked up, I now held it in one hand while steering towards the mine. Ghouls came stumbling out of the old shacks and buildings of unknown purposes. Their rotting legs unable to move fast enough as the truck plowed over them with wet, crunching sounds. Clotted blood splattered the view, before the wipers kicked on smearing it.

“BRING IT BITCHES!!!” my voice shouted out of view, the truck serving to miss a backhoe left rusting in the road.  
A tunnel could be seen ahead, more ghouls blocking it. Their numbers meant nothing to the full tanker as it barreled in full speed. The view turned to face the seat with flares scattered about and with my other hand I grabbed them and began to light them with my electrical powers. One, two, 5, all two dozen were ablaze now and I tumbled from the driver-side door laughing the entire time I ran. The view jostled wildly, images could barely be made out as I ran over the crushed remains and wriggling bodies back into the cold morning air. I could be heard wheezing with every laugh now. I made it to the backhoe before standing on top of it watching the mines entrance. Stifled giggling as I tried to stand still and focus the on the main attraction.

The darkness quickly gave way to a blazing flash fire spewing like a tipped over volcano. The nearby vegetation catching fire, the evergreens quickly lighting up like 100ft torches. The roaring of the fire, my callous laughter and the cries of burning undead mixed into a terrifying sound track. Another explosion sounded and the camera panned to the right, fire shot up into the air from a hole. Another blasting sound and the ground to my left began to collapsed, white hot flames seeping from the cracked earth.

“Aw fucking hell!” jumping off the my sinking perch I began to run back past the mines now burning buildings. Slipping on mashed zombie I dropped the camera with a curse before grabbing and shutting it off. 

Silence now. 

I hadn't realized how loud the recording was until it was gone. 

I stared at the dark screen, watching apathetically as it was rewound back to the beginning. Stopping at my masterpiece of cock-art. 

“When again, did you say the line 'Welcome to Jackass'?” Slowly, stiffly, I turned to face Sir Hellsing. The color had long since drained from my face. No doubt my pale blue eyes were vacant. She watched me, one hand under her chain, the other flicking ash from her favorite vice. The smile never left her face. 

“Before I crashed the truck, sir.”

“You didn't crash it until 11 minuets later.”

“It didn't seem that long.”

“And, where did you get the vehicle?” she pressed on

“From a jerk at a reststop, sir.” my voice was flat, I would not show fear to the woman who commanded the damn. But my tail was still tucked firmly in fear.

“How, exactly.” 

Swallowing thickly I maintained eye contact. “I beat the shit out of the driver and took it. Sir.”

Sir Irons cut in, Frustrated with the pace of the interrogation.  
“You stole a fuel truck?! STOLE IT?! You were given over 500 rounds of blessed ammunition and pure silver daggers! Why didn't you use any of that?!” He stood up knocking his chair over and continued to shout at me. “Why the bloody hell would you use a stolen vehicle full of flammable liquid to use as a weapon?!”

“It was more efficient.” I shrugged having resigned to my fate the moment I saw what was on screen. 

He sputtered, anger grasping the words from him. “Do, do you have any ANY idea what you've done?”

“I burned a nest of Vampires. There was too many of them to shoot through and they would have scattered if they felt they were going to lose. Target and his associates are dead. Case closed.”

______________________________________________________

"And so that's why we're here now?" A deep and very irritated voice asked. We were sitting in the back seat of a very expensive SUV. With a sigh I nodded and looked over to the man seated beside me. 

"And that's why I'm to take you to this, what was it called again?" He stared down at me with familiar harsh blue eyes. He looked every bit his mother when upset. Even had her long blond hair, tied back of course.  
I could do nothing but answer the question meekly. "That's why I'm going to-" sighing and hanging my head down, "we're going to dog obedience class."

My punishment was to remain in my canine form for 4 weeks. To be the young masters "pet" for 4 damned weeks. Because, and I quote that old fart Walsh, 'Act like a damn animal so you'll be treated as such!' I could hardly pass as a dog, but some fake breeders paperwork and shot records and people thought I was a big beautiful black Malamute. 

Young Sir Lewis Hellsing sighed irritabilly and turned to look out at the passing view. His jaw tight as though he was to go into battle soon. I knew I had disappointed the man who stuck his neck out to get me here. As a werewolf he and the rest of Hellsing were supposed to shoot me full of silver holes and burn my existence away to ash. Yet somehow by fate or dumb luck I saved this dashing short tempered man and wound up as the newest supernatural pest control. 

The vehicle soon slowed and parked by the curb to let us out. I tried my best to keep my head high as I kept up Lewis's long strides into the very posh pet store. 

We must've looked like some sort of super stars strolling in with such confidence and purpose. He was dress smart in a dark blue and silver Armani suit, black sunglasses hiding the sharp blue of his eyes. At the end of his leash I stood waist high. My fur was blacker and just as shiny as his shoes. My collar was the same dark blue and silver as his suit. It was no surprise all the others in the store stopped to stare wide eye. 

A timid clerk welcomed us and asked if he needed any help. Lewis just curtly asked where the classes were and as soon as the girl gestured in a direction he was already past her causing the poor girl to jog to keep up. 

And so here I am, with my boss's son, sitting in a room with an agility course, surrounded by puppies. And the happy new pet parents who tried to keep their little fur babies away from us. As comical as the scene was I remained silent, doing every command and party trick asked of me. 

Maybe after a few years I could look back and laugh but for now I needed to choke down these God awful treats. 

Life is stranger then fiction.


End file.
